Sapphire
by lyradaemon
Summary: A witch with secrets to hide finds herself sharing a house with Daemon and Surreal. CHAPTER 11 ADDED!
1. Chapter 1: An Unexpected Visitor

**Sapphire, **_by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 1: An Unexpected Visitor**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Anne Bishop. Please don't sue**

**IT IS SET BEFORE THE DAEMON/SURREAL THING MENTIONED IN 'DAUGHTER'**

The bitch was dead.

Daemon Sadi slowly looked around the ruins of the Court with an appraising smile. The after-scent of dark psychic power lingered heavily, smothering the foul stench of the corrupt former Queen. Everything now lay in desolation and destruction; there was nothing recognizable, neither object nor human.

Daemon's smile grew.

"W-what have you done?" A high, shrill voice interrupted him.

Daemon turned to see a Rose-Jewelled Warlord cowering pathetically behind the remains of a marble pillar. His eyes held terror and disbelief at what he saw in front of him. Daemon felt the anger welling up inside again.

"What does it look like?" He asked silkily, gliding towards him.

The man trembled and backed away a few steps; into a crumbling wall. "Where's the Queen?" He demanded, voice shaking.

"I'll give you three guesses," Daemon smiled.

The Warlord stared at Daemon. "Y-you killed her?" He stuttered, barely audible.

"She annoyed me. And come to think of it, you're starting to irritate me too." Daemon paused and looked thoughtfully at him with sleepy golden eyes. "Tell me, do you know what I do to people who annoy me?"

There was an audible gulp.

"Exactly. So I suggest you get out of here before you irritate me any further. There's no telling what I might do to you." His voice was a seductive purr, but it held an icy edge which only an idiot would miss.

The Warlord paused for only a second before he scampered around to what used to be the door. "Dorothea will find out about this," he said sounding shrill but with a vindictive smile on his lips. "She'll find out, and then she'll punish you. You won't get away-"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by a blast of Black power. The man's mind disintegrated into grey dust.

Daemon laughed, a cold, cruel laugh. "I can get away with whatever I damn well want to," he smiled. "Dorothea can try all she likes, but she'll never stop me." He surveyed the room one last time before striding out the door, stepping over what was left of the Warlord in disgust.

He caught the Winds and left the aftermath of his destruction behind him.

Several hours later Daemon stood outside the door to his house. Casting a searching psychic probe around him, he quickly opened the door and slipped inside.

He stopped dead.

Someone was here who shouldn't be.

A feral anger rose up, his eyes glazed and his beautiful face set itself into it's familiar mask; quick as lightning he descended to the Black, ready to use it on whoever was in his house and wasn't meant to be.

He glided towards the door to the sitting room, hands casually in his trouser pockets; he paused briefly before reaching for the handle.

The door flew open to find Surreal standing there. Her eyes blazed with barely-suppressed anger and Daemon could instantly sense that she was on edge. He lifted one elegant black eyebrow in question.

"Come in and I'll explain," was all she said.

Daemon hesitated, unwilling to enter somewhere was there was an unfamiliar person; these days he didn't trust anyone, knowing full well that if he fell in with the wrong one, he could end up back with Dorothea. He wasn't going to risk that.

"Daemon, just _come in_ would you?" Surreal snapped impatiently, hands on hips.

He went in and cast a quick glance around the room until he found the source of the discomfort.

"There's a _witch_ in my _house_?" He practically shouted, not taking his eyes off the person standing by the fireplace.

Surreal looked taken aback. "Daemon, there's no need to get angry about it," she said, slightly puzzled. "She isn't here to hurt anyone."

"Who is she?"

"Noelle. She's a witch; I found her a few days ago and decided to bring her here. I didn't think you'd mind."

"I don't want strangers here Surreal. You know that. Do you remember what happened last time?"

Surreal shuddered; the memory of the – _redecorating_ – Daemon had done with the Warlord who had unfortunately come into the house still made her feel slightly ill. And she was an assassin.

"She needs help Daemon. Our help." There was a question there, a request.

"You want me to help her." That wasn't a question.

Surreal nodded. "Yes," she said simply.

Daemon stared intently at Noelle. She had long, blue-black hair – longer than Surreal's – and dark, golden eyes which were full of wariness. Her skin was the same colour as Daemon's; he guessed her to be half-breed, or perhaps from Dhemlan.

Then his eyes widened.

"She's a Sapphire-Jewelled witch?" He demanded, sounding surprised, although his face gave away nothing.

"Do you have a problem with that?" Noelle asked softly, but neither Daemon nor Surreal missed the threat held there.

Surreal groaned. Things were not going to plan. "No, Noelle, Daemon doesn't have a problem with what Jewels you wear. Do you Daemon?" The last part was aimed rather strongly at Daemon.

He smiled, one which held no warmth at all. "Of course not, Lady."

Noelle looked at him with an appraising eye. "And who are you, Prince?"

"Daemon Sadi," was her only reply, but it was enough to make her eyes widen. But before she could say anything Daemon carried on. "You're hurt," he said bluntly. "Someone has hurt you. Why?" It sounded stilted, emotionless.

Noelle hesitated and looked cautiously at Surreal. Surreal turned to Daemon. "She was…used…by a man. That's all."

Daemon snarled. "That's not _all_. Being used is not _all_."

Surreal knew she had hit a sore spot. "Daemon, Noelle doesn't want to talk about it. It's not easy; she doesn't know us and, understandably, she doesn't trust us. Just give her time."

Daemon seemed to ignore that. "I've been used too, Lady," he said too softly; Surreal didn't know who he was talking to. "Did you know that?"

Noelle opened her mouth, but Surreal cut across her with a warning look _:Be careful.:_ To Daemon she said, frustrated, "She'll be alright Daemon. It's nothing serious; I took her to see a Healer. No permanent damage." Mother Night, why was he being like this?

He seemed to consider this before turning back to Surreal. Some of the coldness had left his expression. "If she causes any trouble, any at all, she's leaving."

Surreal nodded; she understood Daemon's need for secrecy and concealment. If no one knew where he was, he was safe. For a while at least. "I understand."

Without another word to either of them, Daemon turned and left.

Both women were speechless for a moment. "Well," Noelle finally said, shock registering clearly on her face, as well as puzzlement. "What was that all about?"

Surreal just shook her head. "I have no idea. But something's happened. He's never like this." She thought about that before changing her mind. "Well, not _usually_ anyway."

"Is he alright?"

"It's hard to tell with Daemon. He never reveals what he's thinking."

"I noticed," Noelle replied tartly. "He's certainly beautiful though."

Surreal laughed but there was no emotion in it. "Don't even think about mentioning it. His looks have made him the person he is now; a please slave. And don't try to make any move on him either; he won't think twice about killing you."

Noelle shuddered. "I'm not going anywhere near a man again," she whispered, pain filling her eyes.

Surreal regarded her with a mixture of sympathy and interest. She still hadn't heard Noelle's full story, and she doubted she would for a while yet. "He won't hurt you unless you give him reason to," she soothed kindly. _At least, I don't think he will. There's no telling with Daemon._

Noelle said nothing but nodded briefly. She obviously had very little trust in men. Surreal could guess what the cause of that was.

Surreal sighed heavily before curling herself up in one of the armchairs; she needed to think about what she was going to do. She had a Sapphire-Jewelled witch who was hurt, was terrified of males, and yet refused to talk about it. She had a Black-Jewelled Warlord Prince who was so volatile at the moment she couldn't even guess what he would do, and who loathed almost every female in the whole of Terreille.

Surreal's options were looking pretty slim.

A/N: There's the first chapter; hope you enjoyed it. Send in those reviews and let me know what you think! Lyradaemon x


	2. Chapter 2: A Secret

**Sapphire, **_by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 2: A Secret**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing them temporarily.**

**Thanks to **_kestrel1206__Lya Darkfury__HeLl HaVe No FuRy LiKe A wOmAn_** and **_Erkith_** for their reviews!**

**AS A RESULT OF SEVERAL WONDERFUL REVIEWERS, I'VE DECIDED TO CHANGE THIS CHAPTER SLIGHTLY, TO MAKE EVERYONE MORE IN CHARACTER ETC. PLEASE RE-REVIEW!**

**(It's set before the Daemon/Surreal thing mentioned in 'Daughter'**

A horrific scream pierced the night.

Daemon leapt out of bed and ran to the door, creating a small globe of witch-light over his head. He yanked it open and found Surreal there, worry on her face.

"Surreal what-"

"It's Noelle. I think she had another nightmare."

"Should I come?"

"No; she won't trust you at all. Especially considering what you're wearing." She looked at him pointedly.

Daemon glanced down and blushed – actually blushed. "Oh. Sorry." He muttered, hiding his indecency behind the door before calling in a pair of black silk pyjama bottoms. "Let me know what happens."

"I will," she assured him before racing down the hall to Noelle's room.

Daemon closed the door, then went to stand in front of the window. Using Craft he drew back to heavy curtains; the bright moonlight spilled in, bathing everything in a soft white glow. He sighed.

Was she ever going to come? The thought had been spinning inside his head for days now, ever since he had received the news. He desperately needed to know that she _would_ come; that she would be everything he had always dreamed she would be. That everything would be alright. But apart from Tersa's word, he had nothing to go by. And although he loved Tersa dearly, the word of a mad, broken witch wasn't much to go on.

Or was it? He didn't know.

Some time later the door opened quietly and Daemon sensed Surreal's come in. Without turning he asked, "How is she?"

"Scared. She had a nightmare about…what happened to her, and I think it was particularly vivid. I gave her a sleeping brew; she shouldn't have any more dreams for the rest of the night,"

"Good."

Surreal approached him slowly, regarding his beautiful profile; the sculptured bones, the smooth jaw line, the sensuous lips. But something was wrong. "Daemon…are you alright?"  
"Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just that…well, you seem on edge a bit. As if something's happened. And I can sense it in your psychic scent too."

"What?" His head whipped around at that. "No one can sense it though."

"I know that; but I'm not everyone. I don't notice it most of the time since you keep it so well-hidden, but you must have let it slip a bit. I've lived with you long enough Daemon; and I wear the Grey, which is closer to your Jewels than anyone else's."

"Except Lucivar," he said almost inaudibly.

Surreal reached up hesitantly and put a hand on his bare shoulder; it was warm. "Do you want to talk?" She asked gently, not wanting to scare him off.

The look in his eyes terrified her. It was so full of guilt and hurt and pain that she couldn't breathe. Daemon was scared, petrified, furious, hurting, all at once. _But he shouldn't be! He's meant to be strong…I need him to be strong…_

"Lucivar…" he began before his voice broke. "Lucivar – he's hurt, and it's all my fault."

"It's alright Daemon," she whispered. "You can tell me."

"It's all my fault," he said again, clearly distressed.

"Shh, Daemon. Tell me what's wrong."

"I used my Jewels; I shouldn't have, but I was so angry…And they told me – us – that if we ever used our Jewels, the other would be punished for it. So that bitch sent him to the salt mines…"

"What?" Surreal asked, shocked.

Daemon nodded. "The bitch Queen I was serving told Dorothea that I'd used Craft, and she spoke to Zuultah. And Zuultah put Lucivar in the mines. It's all my fault…"

Surreal pulled glanced up into Daemon's face. His golden eyes were filled with tears, his cheeks were damp and he looked utterly miserable. _But still more beautiful than he has a right to be,_ Surreal sighed to herself. "Daemon, it's not your fault at all. How were you to know that Lucivar would be sent to Pruul for what you did? You didn't do it on purpose; you can't be blamed."

"I killed someone, a man," Daemon whispered, not looking away. "He was hurting a girl; I couldn't let him do it. So I killed him." His voice was emotionless.

"I can understand that. I'm sure Lucivar would have done the same."

"When they told me," Daemon continued, voice barely above a whisper, "I turned cold, I rose to the killing edge. I destroyed the place; the whole court, gone. I killed everyone. They're all gone, dead. I was so _angry_." Despite the almost guilty words, his voice held no regret, no remorse.

"They can't trace it back to you. They never can."

He sighed heavily. "I know that; it's just as well. If they could, Lucivar would be dead by now." He looked at her, anger and fury at the bitches who had punished his brother seething in his golden gaze. "Surreal…"

Hesitating only a second, Surreal reached out and wrapped her arms around him. His own slipped around her, pulling her close as he rested his cheek on her hair. "It'll be alright, Daemon," she whispered. "Lucivar will be alright." Daemon had hugged her on occasion before, but intimacy – even something as simply as this – was always hard for him. So for him to trust her this much made Surreal's heart ache.

Finally he pulled away. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be. You needed it." She smiled faintly

Daemon nodded wordlessly. _:Thank you:_

She smiled gently. _:Lucivar will be alright. Don't worry about him; if he's as strong as you are, he'll survive.:_

_:I know. I'm just so scared.:_

"Be strong for him, Daemon," she said aloud. "He needs you to still be here when he gets out."

"Don't worry about me, Surreal. I'm not going to do anything stupid," he said with a wry smile.

"I wouldn't count on it," she returned dryly. "Good night, Daemon."

"Good night, Surreal. Thank you."

Surreal hugged him quickly before slipping out the door, closing it softly behind her.

Daemon sighed, sinking on the bed. He lay back, head on the pillows, arms crossed on his chest.

He hadn't meant to do kill them. But then, he hadn't meant to do a lot of things, and they'd still happened. And because of it, his brother was now imprisoned in the salt mines of Pruul; not indefinitely - he remembered being told that before he turned cold - but long enough that they'd both learn a lesson. Long enough for him to be almost dead, but not so long that Daemon would have reason to unleash his fury on all of them. They knew what they were doing.

Closing his eyes against the images of Lucivar, trapped underground, he sent out a thought. _:I need you. I need you so much…:_

He knew no one would hear it. But he wouldn't lose hope; hope was the only thing keeping him going. Hope was all he had left, now that Lucivar was gone.

_I have Surreal. And Tersa. They care for me; I can't abandon them_, he thought. _No matter how tempting it is._

With a burning, deep longing coursing through every part of him, Daemon fell into an exhausted sleep.

NOW REVIEW! COME ON PEOPLE, I NEED THE ENCOURAGEMENT! )

Right; a few quick points.

I really appreciated the reviews I received from the first posting of this chapter. But, as some of you pointed out, events didn't really fit in with the whole time-scale thing, so I decided to change it – and also because people were acting out of character. It hasn't changed much, but I hope it's marginally better!

I've decided that Surreal and Daemon still have their 'brother/sister' relationship going which hasn't been spoiled by what was mentioned in 'Daughter.'

I know Lucivar going to the mines wasn't mentioned in the books, but I wanted Lucivar to be punished for what Daemon did, and since a lot of those Queens were _very_ evil, I thought sending him to the mines was probably what they'd do.

By the way, if anyone is interested in beta-ing for this fic I'd really appreciate it; while I love doing BJT fic, I sometimes get a little stuck for ideas, or think people are acting OOC. Please let me know in a review, or send me a message.

Lyradaemon x


	3. Chapter 3: Noelle's Story

**Sapphire, **_by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 3: Noelle's Story**

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. I mean, come on, would I really let people have Daemon if he belonged to me? Really…**

**This chapter is dedicated to all my lovely reviewers, in particular to my fellow Brit, **_ HeLl HaVe No FuRy LiKe A wOmAn_** - tea all the way!**

The rain continued to fall, soaking everyone and everything. Except that there weren't many people out and about in this weather and this time of night - despite it being only early evening, no one in their right mind would be walking around this part of the town when it was dark.

Noelle walked quickly through the dark, muddy streets until she reached the familiar shabby door. Pausing to give the area a cursory probe – there was no telling what sort of people would be around here – she pulled her coat tighter around her and stepped in.

_Something was wrong._

A stillness hung in the air, along with a slightly obscured psychic scent which…wasn't whole. Steeling herself she mounted the creaky wooden stairs and stopped at the door at the end of the hallway; the lights were all out for some reason. She'd have to speak to Aine about that.

Cautiously she pushed open the door, expecting an irritated "Where have you been?" from her friend. Except there wasn't one. Opening the door fully, Noelle stepped into the dimly lit room…

"Mother Night!" She gasped, putting a hand to her mouth to stop herself being sick and instinctively taking a step back.

Aine lay in a pool of blood in the middle of the floor.

"Mother Night what happened?" She whispered to herself, rushing over to her friend's side. She felt her pulse; dead.

Noelle's mind was reeling. Why would anyone want Aine dead? She hadn't done anything – well, as far as she knew. Being a whore probably ended up earning you a few enemies, both male and female, but she couldn't see why anyone would want to exact this much revenge.

Aine and Noelle had been friends since childhood; but when Aine's father had been brutally murdered – by one of Dorothea's henchman, no less – and her grief-stricken mother had taken her own life, Aine had gone to live with Noelle and her family. Then, a few years ago, someone had broken into Noelle's house while she wasn't there and taken her parents and brother. Noelle had returned to find an empty house and no clues as to where they'd gone; so she and Aine had left quickly, knowing that they could very well be next.

The two of them had been living in their little house for over two years now. Aine had taken to whoring; being a beautiful, feisty yet light-Jewelled witch had meant that she received a lot of custom. She worked in one of the more 'upper-class' Red Moon houses in the town, which was frequented by numerous wealthy and powerful males, more often than not working for Dorothea but desperately needing a respite from the corrupt, sadistic females in the covens.

Aine said she found many of them very charming; they had been persecuted for years before submitting to Dorothea's rule yet still hated the corruptness of it all. Being with a woman, they said, was their way to get away from it all. And Aine didn't mind one bit; after all, it was good money, and these days money was the only thing which kept you out of the gutters.

But Noelle had had different ideas. She wasn't thrilled at the prospect of whoring – after all, who would be? – although she accepted the fact that Aine was really only doing it for the income it provided them with. But the thought of selling herself, her body, just for money, no matter how good it was, was something which sickened her to the very roots of her soul. She didn't tell Aine this, although she had her suspicions that her friend realized her viewpoint on the profession.

Instead, Noelle did 'odd jobs' for paying employers. She would never reveal to Aine what these jobs were; Aine rarely asked anymore, since she knew Noelle wasn't going to tell her anyway. All she knew was that her friend would leave at odd times during the night, and would return at strange times in the day, sometimes dirty, sometimes covered in blood, and always exhausted and pale.

The truth was, Noelle was hired as an assassin. Being a strong, dark-Jewelled witch with stunning looks and a decent brain, she was able to seduce even the most narrow-minded man into giving up his life – for a price of course. Many 'employers' had sneered at her offered rate, but they soon enough came to value her, despite the high prices she demanded. Having a woman who could kill off strong enemies was a desirable commodity these days.

And although she didn't approve of her friend's profession, she was quite happy to seduce a man into thinking he would get sex, before plunging a knife deep into his heart. Being particularly skilled, she never left any evidence that it had been her; of that, she was proud. She knew that killing for money was immoral – and that it made her the lowest of the low – but she did it anyway.

Noelle had always had her suspicions about the identity of the person who had taken her family; the High Priestess of Hayll never did anything herself, but that didn't mean she wasn't behind it. Quite the opposite. Noelle's father had been a powerful Red-Jewelled Warlord Prince who despised Dorothea and everything she stood for; her mother had been an Opal-Jewelled witch who shared her beloved husbands opinions. Together they had raised their two children to hate the corruptness which had spread through Hayll and Terreille, had tainted the Houses of the Blood. They had been taught to fight for what they believed in; a pure, wholesome world where you could walk through the streets of a city without being attacked; where you would be respected, revered, for being a powerful Queen, a strong Warlord Prince, instead of being killed.

A world where Dorothea didn't exist.

From an early age Noelle knew that these views were dangerous; countless times she had seen strange men in her house, speaking in hushed but threatening tones to her mother or father. It was a dangerous world to live in, she was constantly told. Always be on your guard.

And she had been. Even as an assassin – and an extremely good one - she always watched her back, because you never knew who was out there to get you. She had heard stories from Aine of whores being butchered brutally, of girls being found murdered in the Red Moon houses; only a few weeks ago, a friend of Aine's, Marlie, had been killed with a knife in her back at the Red Moon house down the street. It had scared all the girls, Aine said; but they still went about their business, since for many it was there only source of income.

Noelle had spoken to Aine about it; confronted her, told her she had to be careful otherwise she, too, could end up joining those other poor girls. Aine had scoffed at her friend's serious words, but Noelle could tell they had hit home. After that conversation, Aine never left the house without one of Noelle's sharp little silver knives slotted in her waistband.

And now this had happened.

Noelle could hardly comprehend what it meant; she had lost her family, her parents, her brother, and now her best friend…

"I've been waiting for you, little witch."

Noelle turned slowly, dreading what she was going to see.

A man, dressed all in black, sat casually in a chair on the other side of the small room. He had a leering smile on his face; his hair was greasy and he looked dirty.

"Who are you?" She asked, as levelly as possible. Inside, her heart was thumping.

"You don't need to know," he replied silkily. "But I know who you are… Noelle."

"How?"

"My, my, don't we want to know a lot? Maybe I should tell you…Or maybe not."

Angry tears pricked her eyes. "Why did you kill her? She never did anything to anyone."

"No, but she was your friend. And any friend of yours, is an enemy of mine." He stood up, an odd look in his eyes. "I've been searching for you for a long time now, Noelle. I never knew how to get close to you. But your darling friend here proved to be the perfect means. Having a whore for a friend is a never a good idea, my dear. They bring all sorts of…unwelcome…people home with them."

"What do you want?" Her voice trembled slightly as she unwittingly took a step backwards.

"Payment."

He lunged towards her; Noelle threw up a Sapphire shield – but in vain. A blast of Jewelled strength threw her to the floor, breathless.

"How-?" She gasped, clutching her chest.

"Ah, you're about to ask how I, a weak, Rose-Jewelled Warlord can get through your shields, aren't you? Well, sweet Noelle, I too have friends. Strong, powerful friends. They leant me some of their strength so that I myself could overpower you." He smiled, a cold, brutal smile. "I like to be prepared for every situation."

He took another step toward her. Desperately, Noelle threw a Sapphire fireball at him; it bounced of his shield harmlessly. He giggled.

"There's no point in wasting your energy. You won't get through. Besides, I want you to have your full-strength…I've got something else in mind." He leered at her; the stench of stale sweat dripped off of him.

"Look, just tell me what you want…" Noelle said desperately, getting gingerly to her feet.

"What I want? Noelle darling, I want _you_. After all this time, after all you've done, I finally want to get what I deserve; revenge."

"For what?" She said through gritted teeth; Mother Night, she ached.

"For everything you've taken; from me, from Hayll, from Dorothea. All those males you've murdered; they were good men. They didn't deserve to die. But you, my dear little girl, killed them. And you will pay."

"_Good men_? They were disgusting, corrupt, twisted little men who liked to play games with people's lives; the lives of my friends, of my family. They _deserved_ to die." Another blast of strength doubled her over in pain, but she carried on regardless. "Dorothea doesn't deserve anything; she's a rotten, filthy taint which has spread through the Blood. I will happily kill if it means her taint spreads no further."

He was on her in an instant. "_You_ _do not speak of the High Priestess like that!_" He spat at her. He yanked her hair back, bringing tears of pain and anger to her eyes. "You will pay for that too; your mother's screams as I raped her didn't do nearly enough to repay the debt you owe to Dorothea."

Without a moment's hesitation he ripped off her dress, laying her exposed to the air. Noelle tried desperately to hide herself, but he locked her arms by her sides. "You won't escape this, little witch, so there's no point in resisting. Just try to enjoy it." His biting laugh chilled her to the bone.

There, on the middle of the floor, he exacted his revenge on Noelle. Powerless to stop him, she endured the pain, the agony of being invaded by this man; she shook with fury at him, at herself, at her parents for abandoning her. Tears of frustration and self-hate rolled down her face as he thrust into her again and again. And all the time she was powerless to stop him.

Then when he groaned above her, relish and vengeance twisting his face into a hideous mask, Noelle felt his shields vanish; in the heat of the moment, he let them slip. Keeping her steel-tight grip on her inner barriers, resisting his attempts to assail her inner-mind and break her, she carefully reached into herself and gathered her Sapphire strength.

Gritting her teeth as he thrust into her one last time, she hurled all her power at his mind.

With a scream of pain mixed with fury, the man was hurled onto his back. The grip he had had on her body ceased and Noelle jumped to her feet. Shaking with rage and fury, with tears pouring down her face, she stood over him. He lay, writhing and screaming on the floor, his inner barriers blown open, laying his mind bare.

Without waiting, Noelle threw the last drops of Sapphire strength at him. It was enough. With one last, blood-curdling scream, his brain disintegrated before he vanished completely.

Numb with shock, exhaustion and anger, Noelle stood rooted to the spot. Eventually she got enough feeling back in her hands to pull what was left of her dress around her, before she lurched backwards through the still open door, horror still coursing through every part of.

The moment she stepped outside the room, her brain kicked in to action. She spun and ran down the stairs, the muscles in her legs and thighs protesting, the sharp pain between her legs reminding her of what had happened with every step. Not pausing to collect any belongings, she rushed out into the darkness of the street. The rain still fell in torrents, soaking her instantly. Stopping only to get her bearings, she hurried off through the sheets of rain to the only place she could think of.

She thumped heavily on the oak door; it was answered moments later by a friendly looking girl. "Please…Surreal…" she gasped, breathless.

Giving her only a confused glance, the girl hurried off, to return just minutes later with an older woman.

"What do you want to see the Lady for?" She demanded, though not unkindly.

"I…please, I need her…please," Noelle whispered, pain causing her vision to blur.

"Come in, child, you'll catch your death out there," she chided before bustling off down a corridor.

She returned after a few minutes with a small, slim, black-haired woman. "You wanted to see me?" She asked, voice warm and inviting.

Noelle looked thankfully up into those blue and green-flecked golden eyes before darkness consumed her and she fell into darkness

**A/N: Duh, duh duhh! What will happen next? Who was that man? Why did he want Noelle?**

**Find out soon…but only if I get some nice reviews for this chapter! (and constructively critical ones as well, I suppose…)**


	4. Chapter 4: Surreal's Story

**Sapphire, **_by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 4: Surreal's Story**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, yada yad yada…**

Surreal looked up as someone knocked on the door. "Come in," she called. It was Deje.

"Surreal, there's a young woman here to see you. She's in a pretty bad shape."

"Alright, I'm coming."

Surreal followed the bustling owner of the Red Moon House into the entrance hall. "You wanted to see me?" She asked, approaching the shivering figure in front of the door. The girl looked up into her eyes, before crumpling to the floor in a dead faint.

Deje was beside her in a in instant. Sweeping her up in her strong arms, she looked at Surreal questioningly. "I'll take her to one of the spare rooms; she doesn't seem harmful…"  
Surreal shook her head. "No. Take her to my room; I'll look after her."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure." She stalked off back to her room with Deje following. The girl was laid down carefully on Surreal's bed. "Can you bring something to eat and drink please? And hot water and a cloth; she's a complete mess." Deje nodded before slipping out the door, closing it behind her.

Surreal quickly cast a probe over the girl – young woman actually. She was a Sapphire-Jewelled witch, but appeared to have no other rank. She was filthy; blood stained her drenched, muddy dress, and her lips were bruised and swollen. She seemed to have a burn mark on her arm – Surreal could just make it out through a rip in her dress. "What's happened to you?" She muttered to herself.

Carefully she removed the now-useless clothing, pausing to gently touch a huge bruise now forming on her slender hip. The door opened and Deje came in carrying a steaming basin and several clean towels.

Surreal began the arduous task of cleaning the girl up. She began on her face, gently rubbing away the grime and sweat there, not to mention the dried blood. Moving slowly down her body, Surreal cleaned and bathed her, gingerly wiping around the various cuts and burn marks on her body. When she got to further down, she gasped.

"Mother Night, she's been raped!"

Deje hurried forward to look. Frowning with disgust, she carefully parted the girls thigh and nodded. "That she has; no wonder she looks such a state. I'll go and fetch a pregnancy brew - I doubt she'd want a baby after that."

Surreal felt tears of anger prick her eyes as she continued to make the girl clean again. So many times she had seen young women raped by the corrupt, twisted males who worked for Dorothea. She had vowed to kill every last one of them; no matter how long it too, she would make them all pay for the way the girls had been abused.

Eventually the worst of the dirt and blood had been removed, and Deje had managed to get the girl to drink the brew, despite being unconscious. Surreal wiped her hands on a clean towel as she surveyed the girl grimly.

"What will you do with her?" Deje asked behind her.

Surreal sighed, shrugging. "I've no idea. I don't even know who she is. She asked for me specifically, you say?"

"That's was Annie said. Apart from your name, it was impossible to make anything out, she was so exhausted and in pain. It's a wonder she made it here in that weather."

"She'll have to stay here, for a while at least. I probed her, and she's not dangerous. And even if she was, she wouldn't be able to do anything; she's got no strength left in her Jewels. I can imagine what she used them for." She regarded the sleeping form. "No one deserves what's happened to her," she said quietly.

Deje put a comforting arm around Surreal's shoulders; she knew how much this sort of thing affected her. "She looks strong. I'm sure she'll recover."

"I hope so."

**A/N: Sorry it's so short; I just wanted to finish off this scene, but from Surreal's POV. It's basically just a fill-in.The next chapters will be longer, I promise! As always, keep up with those reviews. They're my inspiration… lyradaemon x**


	5. Chapter 5: A Brother's Revenge

**Sapphire, **_by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 5: A Brother's Revenge**

**Disclaimer: I owe nothing**

**Thanks to all my lovely reviewers – as always, your comments are much appreciated**

**_This is set perhaps some time after Noelle first arrives_**

"_Daemon."_

_Daemon turned in bed, smiling at the beautiful woman beside him. "Morning, sweetheart," he said, voice husky._

_She reached out her arms, and he pulled her into his. "Do you want me?" She whispered, cool fingers tracing his mouth. Pools of blue bore into his golden eyes._

"_You know I do; always, forever."_

_She smiled before lowering her lips to his own; they were so warm, so soft. The passion of the kiss pushed Daemon back into the pillows. He smiled, letting his hands wander along her smooth skin, while her own worked their way into his hair._

"_I love you Daemon…"_

Daemon woke with a start, sweating, throbbing with unfulfilled desire. Instinctively he reached over beside him, seeking the warm flesh, but the bed was empty. Groaning with disappointment he buried his face in his shaking hands, desperately trying to remember the feel of her, the smell of her, the way her voice throbbed with emotion and desire. But it was slipping away too fast to hold onto. Snarling with frustration he threw off the covers and stalked over to the wardrobe on the other side of the room. He reached inside and pulled out a bottle of brandy and took several long gulps, relishing the warmth flooding through him.

Sinking into a chair he sighed heavily, feeling tears of frustration and want well up in his eyes; helpless to stop them they spilled over, sliding hot and unchecked down his cheeks. "_Mother Night, I want you so much…_" he whispered, voice shaking. "_So, so much…_"

How long he sat there for he didn't know. Eventually the tears stopped and the bottle was empty. Feeling a thunderous headache building behind his eyes, he dragged himself up and back into bed; the bed which held distant, elusive memories of the one woman he wanted, and the only one he couldn't have.

_I will have her. Soon. Soon, she will be mine and I'll love her like no one has ever been loved._

Clinging to that promise, that hope, Daemon fell into a troubled, dream-filled sleep.

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"Mother Night Daemon, what happened to you?" Surreal demanded, regarding Daemon with an expression of surprise and mirth at his obvious discomfort.

He glared at her over the rim of his coffee cup. "Brandy."

"Brandy? Hell's Fire Daemon! Why on earth were you drinking brandy? You must have had a hell of a lot of it too, by the looks of it." Her hands were set firmly on her hips, a look of disapproval written on her face.

"'S none of your business," he muttered, voice slightly slurred with the after effects of his midnight drinking spree.

"Daemon, you getting drunk _is_ my business. So you'd better just spit it out, since I _am_ going to find out, one way or the other."  
His glare could have boiled water. "_I was depressed_."

"Why?"

"Because-" he stopped, unsure of what to say – and also because a sharp pain had just lanced through his head. "Because I had a dream."

"Aren't you a bit old for nightmares?" She asked, a smile creeping to her lips.

Daemon growled. "It wasn't a nightmare. It was a…a very _nice _dream, if you must know."

Surreal's eyes widened at the raw look of desire on Daemon's tired face. "About her?"

"If by 'her' you mean Witch, then yes," he snapped, wincing at the loudness of his own voice.

"Mother Night."

"Exactly."

"So you drank a whole bottle of brandy because you had an erotic dream?" Surreal asked, face perfectly straight.

"If you put it like that it sounds ridiculous."

"Oh? Tell me, how can I put it so it doesn't sound ridiculous?"

"Point taken."

Surreal giggled at his expression, one of self-pity mixed with a fierce desire to just curl up and die. "Daemon, sometimes you're absolutely hopeless, you know that?" She laughed at his glare. "Do you want something for it?"

"Please."

"I'll just go and prepare something then, I won't-"

"Is there another option?" He asked. "Somehow, I don't think I'd trust anything you make."

Surreal made a face at him. "I'll have you know, I learned it from a very respectable Healer," she said haughtily. "Although, if you prefer, I could go and call a Healer…"

Daemon literally jumped at that. "No!" He said hurriedly, wincing again. "You'll do just fine."

"Thought so," she said with a triumphant smile.

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_**Later on that evening**_

Surreal had decided to take Noelle to the theatre that evening, partly to get her out and about – for her sake – and partly because Daemon was filling the house with such imaginative swearing that Surreal feared for the sanity of their ears.

The play had been enjoyable; Noelle hadn't seen one for years, she'd said, and Surreal had smiled at Noelle's expression of obvious delight. She hadn't been out at all since coming to stay with her and Daemon, so Surreal was pleased at how well she was coping being in other people's company.

They had gone out for lovely meal afterwards, which they had both enjoyed, and now they were walking slowly back to the house.

"Good evening, Ladies," a voice said from the shadows.

Both heads turned immediately. "Who are you?" Surreal asked quickly, stiletto already in hand.

A dark, hooded figure emerged. "That's not important. I've been looking for you, Noelle." He turned towards her.

Noelle literally jumped out of her skin and edged closer to Surreal. "Why?" She asked, keeping her voice as calm as possible.

"Hmm. It might have something you did to someone…my brother actually…" He took one step closer. "I believe you left him in a rather…lifeless state. I want revenge. And what I did to your family doesn't even come close."

"Noelle, run," Surreal whispered to the younger woman, not looking away from the man. "I can deal with this."

"No! Surreal, you can't-"

"Trust me, sugar. Run."

Without hesitating, Noelle disappeared round the corner. "So," Surreal said pleasantly. "Are you going to leave her alone, or am I going to have to persuade you to? After all," she smiled, "I can be _very_ persuasive."

"Leave it," another voice said from behind the first man. "It isn't worth it."

Surreal snorted. "I think your friend there has the right idea," she said silkily. "Playing with me _definitely_ isn't worth it." Giving the man one last look, she turned and stalked off after Noelle.

"The _bitch_! I'll-"

"I said drop it, Greer. She's not worth it."

"The bitch threatened me! I'm not going to just leave it."  
A hand tightened on Greer's shoulder. "You are going to leave it," the voice snarled. "Otherwise I'll tell my mother you interfered in her plans."

"What does Dorothea care? She's too busy playing with her little toys to worry about what happens to some bitches who can't keep their mouths shut."

"I'd keep your mouth shut if I were you, Greer."

"My brother was murdered, Kartane. I want revenge."

"And you shall have it. But not like this. Do you know who those two are living with?" Kartane asked, letting his grip on Greer's shoulder relax.

"Who?" Greer asked, disinterested.

"Sadi."

"Sa-_Daemon _Sadi?"

"Yes, _Daemon_ Sadi, who else ?" Kartan snapped, irritated. "And I have no desire to have anything to do with him either." His golden eyes filled with longing, but it disappeared quickly; he'd learned – very adeptly – the art of keeping his thoughts hidden behind a cold mask. An art he'd learned from Daemon.

Turning so Greer didn't notice the flicker of emotions across his face, he said, "We should probably go; I don't want anyone to see us around here. It was stupid to come in the first place."

"I had to meet the bitch who killed my brother," Greer reminded him coldly. "If you remember."

Kartane ignored that. Pulling his cloak closer around him, he stalked off into the darkness, Greer trailing behind him.

Something tugged at his memory. He didn't know what it was…could it have been that woman, Surreal? There was something so _familiar_ about her… Kartane stopped. _Could she be? But – but that was impossible, wasn't it? She couldn't be…_

Shaking his head to clear the ridiculous thoughts, Kartane caught the winds and left.

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Daemon was sprawled on the sofa, a book he wasn't really reading lying loosely in his hands. His head was still protesting too much to be able to read the small writing. Instead, his mind was wandering idly, going over the previous night, trying desperately to recall _something_…

Suddenly he heard the front door fly open. Surprised at the loud intrusion, he looked up. His eyes grew even wider when he saw Noelle literally fall into the room, breathless from running. "Noelle?"

Her gaze swiveled to him; "_Daemon_," she whispered, lurching towards him, clutching her chest. "Daemon…"

Daemon leapt off the sofa and pulled her into his arms, cradling her against him. "What happened?" He asked soothingly, feeling his heart thump against his chest.

"That man…his brother…" she sobbed.

"Shh, Noelle, it's ok. Tell me what happened."

"The man who – his brother, he – he told me…my family…" her voice trailed off.

Daemon held her closer, stroking her hair, trying to soothe her. "Where's Surreal?"

"Surreal? She – she told me to run. She stayed behind with her stiletto." She frowned, despite the state she was in. "I don't know why she thinks a shoe will help her."

Daemon smiled inwardly. For someone who was – used to be – an assassin, she could be adorably naïve. "Don't worry about Surreal; she'll be fine, she always is."

"But my family," Noelle whispered. "He killed them; he and his brother. They killed them." Sobs shook her body as she wept into his shoulder. Daemon smiled softly, letting his hands wander down her back.

"Do you know who he was?"

"No," she sniffled. "He didn't say. And I didn't want to ask." She shuddered.

Just then the door opened again and a furious looking Surreal strode in, throwing her jacket angrily onto a chair. "The bastard!" She fumed. "What the hell was he thinking?"

Daemon raised an eyebrow at her over the top of Noelle's head. Surreal glared at him for good measure. "That bastard," she replied in answer to his silent question. "He just turned up with some _other_ bastard and threatened Noelle! What's he trying to achieve?"

Noelle turned in Daemon's protective arms and wiped tears away from her cheeks. "Did they go?" She asked quietly.

Surreal nodded satisfactorily. "Yes. I threatened them, then they left. I was ready to spear the bastard, but they left too quickly." She sighed. "It was _very_ tempting."

Noelle leaned back against Daemon and his arms pulled her closer. Surreal smiled inwardly at the protective look on his face. "I want to find him," Noelle said quietly but firmly. "I have to know what happened to my family. I won't rest otherwise."

Surreal looked at Daemon; he gazed right back, his answer written on his beautiful face. _We can't stop her._ Surreal sighed despairingly; those two were so similar some times, it was ridiculous. "Alright. I'll look into it; I can find out any information you want. For a price though."

"Of course." Noelle seemed to adopt a coolly professional manner. "I'll be happy to pay whatever's necessary."

Surreal grinned. "I'm not talking about money, sugar. I'm coming with you."

Noelle's golden eyes widened. "But-"

"You agreed to the price, honey. I'm coming. End of story."

"I-" Noelle spluttered; Daemon chuckled behind her. She turned on him. "I don't see what's so funny Daemon," she snapped crossly, pouting slightly.

"Exactly; you're coming too."

"What? No I'm not Surreal-"

Surreal cut across him, triumph on her face. "Noelle needs to find out what happened to her family; you said so yourself." She congratulated herself mentally when he blushed. "I'll find out the necessary information. Then the three of us go hunting."

Daemon sighed exasperatedly. "Fine," he said shortly. "Whatever you say Surreal."

Surreal laughed and clapped her hands delightedly. She ran over and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "I'm just _so _glad you agreed Daemon," she said happily, before running back out the door.

Daemon glared at Noelle, who smiled sweetly back. "It's only fair, Daemon," she said levelly. "If Surreal has to come, then so do you. Besides, getting out the house will be good for you. You're getting rather crotchety at the moment." Mimicking Surreal she reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Thank you," she murmured, suddenly mortally embarrassed at daring to kissing him, then she too left rather hurriedly.

Daemon was left staring after the two female whirlwinds who had just dragged him into a journey he _didn't_ want to go on. He knew that Surreal was trying to get him 'out and about' – her tried and tested way of making him forget about whatever was troubling him; which, in this case was Lucivar and that damned dream. He still didn't like it though._ You would have thought that she'd give up after all the fuss I've made over the years,_ he thought to himself.

Still, he knew that Surreal didn't give a damn whether he liked it or not; he was going and that was final.

But Noelle… Daemon knew that despite everything that had happened to her, and although she had only known him for a short time, she trusted him devotedly. It was rather endearing, he thought. But why did she want him along? Was she expecting trouble?  
_Mother Night, I hope not._

Sighing resignedly, Daemon flopped back onto his sofa, picked up his neglected book, and proceeded in trying to get the impending trip out of his head.

It didn't work.

**A/N: Ok. I know Daemon seems remarkably placid and easy-going here BUT, before any of you complain, it's because he's with two females he feels he can trust, and who he knows trust him. Noelle doesn't want anything to with a man – physically, anyway. Surreal feels pretty much the same (well, up until a certain episode later on in books); and so Daemon doesn't feel threatened by them. They don't want to use him, he doesn't want to use them. It's a mutual loving relationship…!**

**Anyway, hoped you enjoyed the chapter! As ever, reviews are REALLY appreciated; it just takes one minute to hit the button and say GOOD or BAD or COULD DO BETTER etc.**

**PLEASE! Lyradaemon x**


	6. Chapter 6: Travelling

**Sapphire,** _by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 6: Travelling**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, same as always.**

**Just to clear things up a bit; I _do_ know that a stiletto is _not_ a shoe; when Noelle said "Why is she protecting herself with a shoe?" I was trying to be funny. It failed. Miserably. Terribly sorry. I'm sorry if I seemed rude when I replied to the reviewers who informed me of my mistake; I was in a rush, and I might have been shorter with you than I wished. I'm very sorry!**

"Daemon."

Daemon tried to claw his way out of groggy sleep. He failed.

"_Daemon!_" The voice grew louder as a hand attached to the voice rudely shook his shoulder violently. "Wake up would you?"

He opened bleary eyes to find Surreal's unimpressed face glaring down at him. "Finally," she said, rolling her eyes. "I've never known anyone who took so long to wake up."

"Well I've never known anyone who was so intent on waking people up," Daemon retorted, stifling a huge yawn. "I need my sleep as much as the next person."

Surreal snorted. "Whatever Daemon. We need to get going; Noelle's downstairs. I want to leave as soon as possible."

Daemon looked confused a moment before groaning, burying his face in his warm pillow. "I'm staying here," he mumbled into the pillow.

Surreal yanked the covers off of him, pausing a moment to admire his beautiful body, before beginning to pull on his arm. "Don't be ridiculous Sadi, of course you're coming. Now get out of bed before I have to throw water on you."

_That_ got him up. Glaring at Surreal he got to his feet, calling in a shirt and beginning to button it up. "Do you mind?" He asked tartly. Surreal laughed before strolling out the door, throwing a last, "Hurry up then" at him before closing the door. Daemon locked it.

About an hour later the three of them sat in their coach. Daemon had covered them in a Black shield and they'd managed to reach the Coach Station undetected. Surreal slipped out quickly to hire it from the rather bemused looking man, then she had ushered the quickly inside.

Daemon still looked rather grouchy and tired; Noelle was yawning widely; Surreal was lost in thought.

"Where are we going by the way?" Daemon asked, peering out the window.

Surreal seemed to shake herself out of her little reverie. Giving both of them a bright smile, she announced "Dena Nehele" before launching the Coach into the Winds.

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"_Dena Nehele?_"

Surreal sighed and rolled her eyes. She _knew_ she was going to get this reaction out of them. "Yes," she said. "Do you have a problem with that?"  
Daemon and Noelle looked at each other. "No."

"Exactly. So shut up."

That produced two golden eyed glares. _Hell's Fire…_

"Apparently your parents were there a lot. Stands to reason that we can find out something there which will explain why someone would want to kill them," Surreal explained reasonably.

Noelle looked slightly less startled. "Well, I suppose that makes sense…"

"Surreal, do you have any idea who could be in Dena Nehele?" Daemon demanded.

"No."

"Precisely! _Anyone_ could be there; which could mean trouble. I haven't just escaped from a Court to end up in another because Dorothea finds me." He had a cold glint in his eye. Surreal shivered.

"Daemon, there's no way of telling who's going to be there. But we have to take the risk."

Daemon looked away angrily. "You could have told me where we were going. You know what will happen if I'm found," he said too quietly.

"I know. I'm sorry. But if I had told you, you wouldn't have agreed to come; besides, you're perfectly capable of looking after yourself." The air temperature dropped noticeably. Noelle's teeth began to chatter. "And if we're to find out what happened to Noelle's family, we have to go to Dena Nehele. There's no other choice."

Daemon didn't reply.

They sat in silence for the remainder of the journey; Surreal gazing out one window, Daemon staring moodily out the other and Noelle sitting uncomfortably in between.

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When they finally arrived Noelle was the first out of the coach, clambering over Daemon – much to his astonishment – to get away from the unnerving tension in the carriage. She never imagined that anything could be more uncomfortable.

Daemon and Surreal emerged soon after, both being careful not to look at each other. Considering that what they had said hadn't been exactly offensive, Noelle assumed something else had passed between them, which had escaped her notice. She really didn't want to know what it was.

Noelle looked around, taking it all in quickly – an art she had learned as an assassin. They seemed to be on the outskirts of a small but neat town, with low, spacious buildings and wide, clean streets. She could just make out a larger building which she recognized as the mansion where the Queen lived. Noelle had only been to Dena Nehele a few times – all when she was much younger – but she could still remember a lot about it.

"Where are we going?" Daemon asked neutrally, no emotion in his voice.

"To where Noelle's parents used to go," Surreal replied in a similar tone.

"And where's that?"  
Surreal sounded suddenly unsure. "It's on the other side of the town I think. Near the Court."

They headed off in that general direction, again under Daemon's Black shield. "Won't people sense your Craft?" Noelle asked interestedly when he put it up.

Daemon looked at her and smiled slightly. "No."

As they passed the Queen's mansion, Daemon paused. "What's the name of the Queen here?" He asked, gazing at the lovely marble building.

"The Queen left years ago," Noelle replied, stopping next to him.

"Didn't someone take her place?"

"There was no one _to_ take her place." Daemon could tell what she meant: _Dorothea killed them all._

Daemon turned to her. "How do you know so much about this place?" He questioned, curiosity giving his golden eyes a lovely gleam.

"I came here when I was young," Noelle answered shortly.

Daemon simply looked at her before moving on. Leaving Noelle behind them, he caught up with Surreal. Ignoring their earlier silence, he spoke. "She's hiding something."

"I know," Surreal replied, not looking at him.

"Do you have any idea what it is?"

"None; but I'll find out. It obviously has something to do with this place. I know her parents came here often – without her or her brother, mostly – but I have no idea _why_."

They walked in silence until they reached a small, modest looking building. "What's in there?" Daemon asked, indicating the house with a brief nod of his head before slipping his hands nonchalantly into his trouser pockets.

"Hopefully, answers."

Daemon shrugged before following Surreal inside.

**A/N: Sorry it's so short. I've had three French literature essays to do this week, so I've kind of been busy. Still, I have ideas about what's going to happen in the next few chapters, so in theory I'll get them written quite quickly. Hope you're still enjoying reading it, and many thanks as always for the lovely reviews! Lyradaemon x**


	7. Chapter 7: Answers

**Sapphire, **_by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 7: Answers**

**A/N: I am SO sorry for not updating sooner! Many thanks to all you lovely reviewers: I know I've been a very bad author about the updates, but things will speed up from here!**

Daemon blinked, suddenly unable to see due to the darkness inside the room. There were a few sounds, but nothing which caught his attention. The faint smell of old beer wafted gently in the slight breeze coming in through the door, causing him to wrinkle his nose in disgust. One of _these_ places.

"Can I help you?" A voice asked politely but warily.

He sensed Noelle jump somewhere nearby. "We're looking for someone; I'm not sure if you know them," Surreal replied cautiously, keeping her voice neutral.

"And who might that be?"

"Sapphire."

A silence. Then, "I'll go and tell her you're here." A door opened then closed quietly.

Daemon turned to Surreal. "Sapphire? Who's that?"

"Someone who should have the answers we need."

"Can we trust her?"

Surreal hesitated just a bit too long; Daemon's temper honed. "I hope so."

Now that his eyes had become used to the gloom, Daemon saw the door at the back of the room open again and a hooded figure slipped in. "You wanted to see me?"

Surreal whirled around. Glancing quickly at Daemon she nodded curtly. "Yes. But somewhere private."

"Alright. Come with me."

Setting her shoulders Surreal followed the shadowed figure, with Noelle following closely behind. Daemon glanced briefly at the man standing behind a bar of sorts, but he got all the information he needed. The man was used to this sort of thing; hushed gatherings, closed meetings. Information exchanged for money. No questions asked, no answers given. Trustworthy. Satisfied, Daemon continued.

The room they were taken too was clean yet sparse, with only a four old chairs and a table as furniture. The figure indicated for them to sit down. But when she looked at Noelle she seemed to pause. Surreal must have noticed it since she glanced sharply at Daemon. He shook his head; this person, whoever they were, didn't pose a threat. He could make sure of that.

Slender hands reached out from inside the black robe and pushed back the hood…revealing blue-black hair, golden eyes, tanned skin. Noelle.

A confused silence.

"_Amaya_?"

The other woman smiled. "Hello Noelle."

In a rush Noelle was on her feat and throwing herself into Amaya's arms. She laughed, hugging her tightly. "I never thought I would see you again," Noelle gasped, tears spilling from her eyes. "I thought they'd taken you too."

"They weren't going to get me that easily," Amaya returned with steel lacing her voice.

Surreal cleared her throat none too politely. "Would you mind telling me what in Hell's name is going on?"

Gently disentangling Noelle's arms from their chokehold around her neck, Amaya looked appraisingly at Surreal and Daemon. "I'm Amaya – Noelle's cousin."

Surreal frowned. "But I thought Noelle's family was dead."

"Not quite. I heard about her brother and parents a while back; they tried to kill me too but they failed miserably." She turned to Noelle. "I wasn't the only survivor either."

"You mean there's others?"

Amaya nodded. "My parents and both my brothers. And our grandparents."

"But I thought…those men said that…"

"I can guess what they told you. That the Queen had been driven out and was found dead some time after. That all her relatives had died – either in 'accidents' or from natural causes. But they were lying Noelle."

"Wait a moment," Daemon interrupted. "Noelle thought that her whole family was dead, but some of them are still here?" Amaya nodded.

"Why did you never contact her?" Surreal asked incredulously. "You've no idea what she's had to go through-"

"I do have an idea! It was my family who was killed too you know; I might have my parents and brothers, but both my sisters were murdered. Not to mention the cousins and aunts and uncles. I know very well how Noelle must have felt." She sounded angry. "If you're going to just insult me like that, then you can leave. Go back to wherever you came from, I don't care."

"Now wait a minute sugar-"

"Surreal," Daemon warned. "Don't."

There was a moment of strained silence while Surreal and Amaya glared at each other. It was broken by Noelle. "So where are they all? Surreal's right – you could have told me you were still alive."

"I know, I'm sorry," Amaya said gently. Surreal huffed. "It was too dangerous though. We didn't know what had happened to you, so if we'd sent a message and it was intercepted, it would have put all of us at risk. You must understand that."

Noelle turned away, anger and understanding warring inside her. All this time she had been alone, abandoned, an orphan forced to kill for a living. And now her cousin was here, telling her that all along she had had relatives, that they hadn't all died as she had been led to believe. Anger welled up, anger at her parents for dying, anger at her family for abandoning her, anger at those men for murdering the people she held dearest to her. Abruptly she turned to Amaya. "Why?" When she got now response her voice rose. "Why? Why did they kill them? _Why_?"

Amaya glanced at Surreal and Daemon, obviously shocked by Noelle's outburst. She cleared her throat nervously. "We – we don't know, Noelle. We can only guess."

"Tell me what you know. And don't you _dare_ leave anything out. I've been left in the dark to long for that." Noelle's golden eyes flashed with anger and a cold, cold rage which took Amaya's breath away. She had never seen her cousin like this before. Surreal noticed it too… and was breathless for a different reason. _Mother Night, she's so like Daemon_…

So Amaya started at the beginning.

"Your parents came here a lot when you were younger and even before you were born. My parents lived here, along with our grandparents, and they would visit all the time. Dena Nehele has always been a haven for those of the Blood who refuse to follow Dorothea and succumb to her wickedness. For centuries, witches and Warlords have lived here together, just as the Blood once did long ago. The Queens were fair and kind, always just, never judging.

Occasionally, some of Dorothea's men would try to sneak into Dena Nehele; they would wheedle their way into courts, flattering the lesser Queens and her courtiers. As often as not some observant Warlord would realize what was going on and the person would be quietly dispatched – to the High Lord as often as not. When the people of Dena Nehele learned of this, they undoubtedly became troubled; Dorothea's attention is never welcome, especially when you are resisting her every attempt at ensnaring you in her net of lies.

Well, the people here became more cautious: patrols were formed in order to survey the borders, just to make sure that no other unwelcome visitors slipped through. For a time it seemed to work: no strangers were seen in Dena Nehele.

However, soon there were sightings of strange men, dressed in black robes, hoods covering their faces. They would seek out the services of some of females from the Red Moon houses, taking their one night with them and then murdering them. Of course people were shocked, not least of all the Red Moon houses. But one night a woman escaped from such a man, and made her way to the Queen's Court, seeking shelter. It was granted and she told her story willingly: the man, apparently, had been asking all sorts of questions, about Dena Nehele, the Queen, the males in her Court, whether the people were for or against Dorothea. Questions which, if answered truthfully, would invariably mean the downfall of not only the Queen but of most of Dena Nehele too. The woman told him a few lies before managing to escape: she didn't, not as far as we know, anyway, give anything of any importance away.

Yet this news troubled many people, especially both my parents and yours. They had, along with several others in the family, been secretly working _against_ Dorothea and all that she stood for. They couldn't bear to see their beloved Dena Nehele fall into her hands, not after all the effort their people had exerted in order to remain independent. The freedom of Dena Nehele was the most important thing in their lives; until, of course, you came along Noelle.

When you were born, so mother says, they immediately left, since several more of Dorothea's men had been sighted. They didn't want to stay here in case it was attacked: your father believed that by going to live in one of the cities it would mean that Dorothea would simply pass over you all, that she wouldn't notice you. It was risky, certainly, but since no one could be sure whether your parents' names had been mentioned as being part of those opposed to Dorothea, the risk had to be taken: you had to leave straight away.

However, after that, visiting Dena Nehele became much harder. Dorothea had set up border patrols in order to check who was coming in and out. She knew something was going on, but she didn't know what. Eventually your parents didn't come at all.

And that was when they struck."

Here Amaya paused, swallowing hard. Noelle, Surreal were listening so intently that she blushed. "After that, I can't tell you much else. I wasn't in Dena Nehele when it all happened – I was actually staying with an aunt in Dhemlan. I think, perhaps, that my parents knew what was going to happen, so they sent me away. Many people were murdered and houses were burnt. The only people who survived out of our family were our grandparents, my parents, Hakon, Belian and me." She shrugged. "No bodies were ever found. No one knew what had happened to any of them – it's believed they were killed – but there's always the possibility that Dorothea's holding them captive. And if that's true, there's no telling what information she can prize from them." Here she turned to Noelle. "And then they killed your family too."

Noelle looked away, overcome with emotions. She now had some idea of _why_ her parents had been murdered, but there were still too many blanks in the picture. "How did they know where my parents lived?" She asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Amaya shrugged again. "Who can say?"

They were all silent for several moments, each digesting the information. Surreal interrupted the silence. "Why is there no Queen in Dena Nehele? Was she killed? Why did no one take her place?"

Amaya smiled softly. "The Queen is our Grandmother – the Lady Ardelia."

Daemon gasped, almost falling of his chair in shock. "_Lia?_"

Noelle frowned. "Yes. Why, do you know her?"

"I did – many years ago. I knew her Consort…well, he wasn't her Consort, not really. Jared was his name. I always wondered what happened to him…"

Amaya and Noelle laughed. "Jared is our Grandfather."

Daemon's eyes grew even wider at this. "He is? But – Mother Night! I never knew! He actually married Lia? Why didn't he ever say?"

"I've no idea. I don't think he ever mentioned you."

Noelle's head suddenly shot up. "Wait! Are you the man who saved Lia after she was attacked by those spider things?"

Daemon's mouth twitched. "Viper rats actually."

"Then he did mention you! The 'most beautiful man in the world, but who couldn't make a decent cup of coffee.' That was you?"

He sighed theatrically. "I can make a very decent cup of coffee thank you." Amaya laughed.

Surreal stood up, stretching. "That's all fine and well, but we still have gaps to fill in. We've still no idea how Dorothea's men found Noelle's family." The mood in the room instantly darkened as the smiles slid from the cousins' faces. Surreal turned to Amaya. "Do you have any idea who we could speak to? To get some answers?"

Amaya frowned, thinking hard. "I've searched everyone in Dena Nehele and no one seems to know anything. All I can think of is that one of Dorothea's people managed to get information from somewhere. Maybe you could find one of them…?"

Daemon immediately stood up, facing Surreal. "No Surreal. No way. I'm not going hunting one of _hers_. It's too damn risky! I can't afford to be so near her – I'm _not_ going to end up in her Court again!" He sounded angry but Surreal could tell that he was scared at the thought of being so close to Dorothea again.

"I understand that Daemon. I'm not asking you to come with us."

Daemon began pacing, muttering and swearing under his breath. The three women just watched him. Finally he stopped, a decisive look on his face. "I'm coming. I'm not going to let the death of innocent people go unavenged. I killed a man harming an innocent, and that led to my brother being sent to the mines. He would never forgive me if I just stood by now."

Noelle reached out and took his hand. Smiling shakily, she whispered a simple, "Thank you," before letting it go.

Not before Surreal noticed a warm smile flit across Daemon's face.

"Well sugars, I suppose we'd best get going then," Surreal said, voicing all their thoughts. "The sooner we leave, the sooner we get answers."

As they turned to leave, Amaya whispered to Surreal, "Who's his brother?"

Surreal grinned, "Lucivar Yaslana," and inwardly laughed at the startled looks she received.

"Oh," they replied. "That explains a lot."

None of them noticed Daemon's chuckle as he strode out the room.

**A/N: Well, what do you think? If you have any comments, PLEASE just click the button down their and send a review. It won't take long! Love lyradaemon x**


	8. Chapter 8: Risks Are Worth It

**Sapphire,** _by lyradaemon, beta'd by Aria Naerwyn_

**Chapter 8: Risks Are Worth It**

**A/N: Yes, I know, I'm a very bad person. I haven't update since who knows when, and for that I apologize. Still, I would like to thank dancingwithinbrokendreams who badgered my about writing another chapter: this one's for you! And to my wonderful beta Aria Naerwyn - thank you so, so much for doing this. I really appreciate it - this one's for you too!**

Again, that too familiar question: "Where are we going?"

They were all there; Surreal, Daemon, Noelle and Amaya, brought together by their circumstances. They all reeled at the previous revelations – especially Daemon, who had learned that Amaya and Noelle were the grandchildren of Lia and Jared, two people he had regarded fondly.

Daemon lifted his head at the question. Shaking his head resignedly he sighed. "Where else? Hayll."

Surreal nodded her reply. "Draega. That's where Dorothea works from, and that's where her people are. If we want questions, we have to go to Draega."

"So close to her?" Amaya asked, eyebrows raised. "Are you sure that's necessary?"

Unfurling from his chair with characteristic grace, Daemon ran a hand through his thick black hair and surveyed the others. "It's the only way. Dorothea has spies everywhere, it's true. It's possible we could find out the necessary information somewhere else, somewhere less dangerous. But if I know Dorothea, the people with the most information – the most important, at least – would be in Hayll, especially Draega, where she can keep her eye on them. There's nothing else to it."

Noelle had been silent during this exchange. Now she looked up and her gaze locked with Daemon's. "Are you sure you want to do this?" She asked softly, searching his golden eyes. "Are you sure you want to walk straight into Dorothea's arms and risk being found?"

Silence filled the room as Daemon regarded the younger woman thoughtfully. With a slight smile he shrugged gracefully. "I'm a Black Warlord Prince, lady," he replied. "I can evade even the best of people. I won't come to any harm, I assure you."

Noelle nodded, apparently satisfied. Only Surreal had seen the small glint in his eyes which told her Daemon wasn't convinced; that, and they way he shuddered when Noelle turned to her cousin.

"So you're up for it?" Noelle questioned concern in her eyes. She knew it would be hard for Amaya to give up the freedom and shelter she had had for so long.

Her cousin laughed. "Sweetheart, if an escaped Warlord Prince and an assassin are prepared to saunter into Dorothea's arms, I'm quite happy to accompany them." When Surreal and Daemon both shot her startled glances her expression changed to one of frankness. "I'm not stupid. I've heard both your names before: and your status is usually tacked on the end." She chuckled at the look they exchanged. "I know more than you realize."

"Evidently." Surreal.

Apparently trying to avert any possible confrontations, Noelle cleared her throat politely. "So when will we be going?"

"We'll set out tomorrow – the sooner we get going the better," Daemon replied, pacing restlessly. "There's a small town on the outskirts of Hayll, big enough to be separate from it, but small enough to provide easy access to the city. We can catch the Winds to there, and then sneak into Hayll somehow. After that, I have no idea." He turned to face them. "I have my own house there, which Dorothea doesn't know about. Only a handful of people do; people I know I can trust to keep secrets. We can go there, but I have to be certain I can trust you," here he pointed to Noelle and Amaya. "I can't afford to make mistakes: do you swear to me, both of you, that what you see and hear will be repeated to no one? That you will never tell another living soul about where the house is?" They nodded wordlessly, eyes wide. "Because if you do, I swear, there will be _nowhere_ far enough away to hide from me. I will hunt you down, and when I find you, you will wish you'd never been born. Do you understand?"

Even Surreal was impressed. Daemon's golden eyes blazed and his beautiful face an expression of such intensity and ferocity that even she shuddered at the thought of what Daemon would do if betrayed. She wasn't surprised to see Noelle and Amaya nod their heads vigorously, swearing devoutly that they would keep his secret, that he could trust them implicitly.

Satisfied, he turned his gaze on her. She rolled her eyes. "Do you even have to ask?"

His expression turned amused. "Just a precaution."

She glared back at him. "Of course."_ Don't test me Sadi,_ she warned via a psychic thread. _I have put up with enough of your crap over the years for you to know that you can trust me. Just don't put that trust to the test. I value my life, you know._

_As do I_, he replied, with just a hint of sorrow. Her words had struck true: _'I put my life before yours.'_ He gave a mental shrug. _I understand Surreal. Just don't expect me to come running whenever you need help._

Her reply was acidic. _And when have I ever needed your help Sadi?_

_You never know._

The cousins had been oblivious to the silent exchange. Giving Surreal one last appraising look he turned to Amaya. "Lady, do you know anywhere we can stay? Somewhere safe, where people don't ask questions." Direct and to the point.

"Yes, I think so. It's on the outskirts, perhaps a ten minute walk. I've known the owner since I was a child; I would trust them not to tell anyone about us staying there."

"Alright," his reply was cautious.

She paused, considering a moment. "I can take you there; what I can't do is conceal you. With your looks," here she inclined her to Surreal too, "you stick out like a sore thumb. I can't guarantee you won't be recognized."

"No problem; I can shield us all."

Amaya's eyebrows rose. "You can do that?" She asked, slightly incredulously.

In turn Daemon's eyes narrowed and his face hardened. "You don't know the half of what I can do," he replied stiffly. Amaya didn't fail to heed the warning laced beneath those words: _Don't try me either._

"Alright," she said aloud, quelling a shudder at his gaze, so cold and hard. "I'll take you there."

Surreal exchanged a glance with Daemon. His immaculately arched brows rose and she inclined her head with an imperceptible shrug of her shoulders; the two of them had long ago learned to converse silently. Surreal looked at Noelle.

"Coming then?"

Getting stiffly to her feet Noelle replied, "I suppose I don't have much choice in the matter."

Daemon grinned unexpectedly, "Probably not, little witch."

Grumbling to herself, Noelle followed the others out the door.

---------------------------------------------------------------

What was more like half an hour later the four of them arrived at a modest sized building, partly shaded by the huge trees growing in a clump in front of it. It had taken them longer than expected to steal out of the town; even under Daemon's considerable protection, he refused to move so near other people. 'I like to be cautious,' he had snapped when Noelle had asked politely if they could move a little bit faster.

Still, they had arrived safely and unhurt, for which they were all greatly relieved. Having heard Amaya's story, none of them were particularly willing to trust to the discretion of other people.

"And you're sure there's no risk involved?" Daemon queried for what must have been the hundredth time.

Exasperated, Amaya shot back a retort. "Mother Night, you're a _Warlord Prince!_ You're not the one meant to be asking about risks."

Surreal stifled a giggle. If Daemon hadn't been so wary of women, she thought, Amaya would make an almost perfect match for him. If he wasn't already taken with Noelle that is…

"No need to get snippy," he remarked absently, sizing up the place. There didn't appear to be anyone around. "Let's go inside."

He led the way, the other three trailing along in his wake, exchanging glances amongst themselves. Daemon seemed decidedly preoccupied. _What's he planning now? _Surreal wondered silently.

Inside it was well lit, with candles tucked into corners everywhere and the late evening glow pouring in through the large windows and a skylight in the roof. It looked just like a normal tavern, albeit a wealthier one, with well-made wooden chairs and tables placed in little niches around the spacious room. A bar ran one length of it, well-polished and clean. Behind it stood a young man, absently cleaning already clean glasses with a worn out towel. He looked up quickly as he heard them entering.

"Good evening," he said pleasantly, putting down what he was doing and moving closer, still behind the bar. "And what is that rare jewel?"

Daemon looked positively startled at the odd question; but before he could say anything, Amaya glided past him, giving him a prod in the ribs on the way.

"Good evening to you too, sir," she replied politely. "Sapphire."

"Ah. Welcome, lady…?"

"Celeste." On some instinct, none of the others started at the given name, much to Amaya's relief. "Is Orianne here? Or Stephan?"

The young man hesitated then nodded. "I'll tell them you're here, lady," he said, before leaving through the door behind the bar.

"_Celeste?" _The three asked together with varying degrees of confusion.

Amaya laughed. "If I went around calling myself Amaya, I'd have no chance of passing undetected. I've got several names I use; I try to make sure I don't leave a trace others can follow. Changing names often helps."

The door opened again and the young man returned, followed by two strangers, both of whom looked no older than Amaya and Noelle.

"Amaya?" One of them – a woman – asked.

"It works obviously," Surreal muttered at the sound of Amaya's real name.

"What are you doing here?" The man demanded, incredulous, before slipping out from behind the bar and approaching them. "I thought you'd left for good."

Amaya laughed; "You're not getting rid of me that easily Stephan," she replied slyly, before throwing herself into his arms, much to her companions' surprise. "I missed you," he murmured into his neck.

In reply Stephan folded his arms around her, holding her close. He regarded the others over the top of her head. "At the risk of sounding rude, who the hell are you?" He asked curiously.

Surreal stepped forward smoothly. "I'm Aline," she said graciously, "a friend of…Amaya's," she hesitated over which name to use. She gestured behind her. "These are Lucian and…" she glanced over at Amaya, unsure as the whether she should reveal Noelle's identity.

Amaya took over. "Noelle, my cousin."

"Noelle? _The_ Noelle?" This last came from the woman, Orianne. Coming forward into the light, they could see that she too was the same age as Stephan and the cousins. She had a mass of auburn hair that fell below her shoulders, and startling grey-green eyes. At that moment she had a confused and hopeful expression on her pretty features.

"Yes, it's me," Noelle said softly, stepping forward.

"Mother Night," Stephan gasped, letting Amaya go. "We thought they'd got you too." He had the same auburn hair as Orianne, although it was slightly darker, and his eyes were a brilliant green. Relatives of some sort, Surreal observed.

Noelle glanced at her cousin; she didn't know what to make of it all. "Stephan and Orianne's parents were close friends of mine," Amaya explained. "They were killed, along with everyone else, by Dorothea's men. We were working together to try to find out who betrayed us; but I haven't seen them in months. I told them about you, and what happened to your family." Noelle nodded, understanding. Friends; or at the very least, people she could trust.

"So, why are you here Amaya? I thought you said it was too dangerous to be about – especially with companions as striking as this lot." Here Stephan shot an appraising glance at Daemon and Surreal, who incidentally were wearing disguise, thanks to Daemon. Surreal's black hair and gold-green eyes had changed – she now had light brown curls and dark blue eyes. Daemon too had transformed himself, although he had shoulder length white blonde hair, velvet brown eyes and such an innocent face that the others could hardly believe it was him. He still had his seductive voice though – that, and his temper.

"We needed somewhere to stay – we're leaving tomorrow, and I don't trust anywhere else in the town, not even my house. You can never tell who may be watching. Do you have spare rooms?"

"Plenty: the whole third floor is empty, if you want to stay there. There are four rooms, each with their own bathrooms – nothing big and fancy – but they work nonetheless. We can have food sent up to your rooms if you like." Orianne looked kindly at them.

"Yes; please. We really appreciate it, Orianne."

"It's not problem," she replied with a smile before calling for the young man (who had politely been sent away) and dispatching him with orders.

They followed Stephan up the stairs to the second floor, where they were each shown their own room, then left to themselves.

The first thing Daemon did was strip off his clothes and climb into the bath: relaxing in the hot water, he let the Craft cloaking his features slide away, heaving a heartfelt sigh at the feel of tight muscles beginning to ease. He could hardly believe that only that morning they had been at his house. Now he was in Dena Nehele, surrounded by people he barely knew, and about to embark on some foolish quest to Hayll – Draega, no less – where he would right under Dorothea's nose. The last place he wanted to be.

After a while the water began to grow cold, so he hauled himself out, wrapping a towel around his waist and rubbing furiously at his hair with another. Just as he was entering his room, a knock sounded at his door. Muttering under his breath about 'inconsiderate, thoughtless people' he opened the door to find Surreal standing there in her pyjamas. Blinking back his surprise he let her in, closing the door behind her.

"Any reason why you're disturbing me?" He asked dryly, rubbing at his hair again.

Surreal regarded him curiously, casting an appreciative eye of his glistening body. Daemon's own gaze hardened and a chill swept through the room when he noticed her eyes wandering. Throwing up her hands in disgust, Surreal plunked herself in a chair and frowned at Daemon. "I don't see why you get so uptight about appreciative looks, Daemon," she grumbled. "You _are_ a man, and I _am_ a woman, after all."

"Most _women_ who have given me that look are normally looking for something other than polite conversation," he returned, though considerably less angrily. "Which is what I assume you're hear for."

Surreal sighed, running a hand through her own loose hair. "I wanted to ask you why you're doing this, Daemon."

He stopped in his tracks, lowering the towel from his head. "Doing what?" He asked cautiously, eyes narrowing.

"_This_. Agreeing to go on some dangerous little trip to Hayll. Playing yourself in Dorothea's hands. She has people out looking for you, you know. The minute she senses you're nearby, there won't be a single place you can go without running into them. It's dangerous; suicidal even. Why?"

Daemon regarded her seriously. "Because I have to."

"Why?"

"Because!" He snapped, angrily.

"That's not answer!"

"It is to me."

"This is about Lucivar, isn't it?"

"No it's not."

"Daemon-"

"Fine, it's about Lucivar."

"At least tell my why."

"No."

"I swear Daemon, if you don't-"

"Are you threatening me Surreal?"

"Are you being stupid, ridiculous and stubborn?"

"That's not fair-"

"Nor's being kept in the dark!"

Daemon glared daggers at Surreal, who was standing, hands on hips, in front of him. Taking a deep breath, he said slowly, "I have my reasons, Surreal. Yes, it's because of Lucivar. Yes, it's a stupid thing to be doing, I admit that. But I'm not going to tell you why now. Later, maybe, but not now. You have your secrets; let me have mine."

Finally Surreal turned away. "Fine. Whatever, Daemon."

Daemon noticed the hurt in her stance and immediately softened – something which he didn't do often. "Surreal…I don't even know why I'm doing this myself. It's just a feeling I have, a feeling which is telling me I have to go to Hayll, to Draega. I can't explain it, it's just there. Can you understand that?"

She regarded him frankly then. "No Daemon, I can't. But I'm willing to believe you, this once. Just promise me; promise me you'll tell me, one day, what this is all about." He nodded wordlessly. Surreal sighed. "I could get more out of a stone," she grumbled. "Sometimes, Daemon Sadi, you are the most infuriating man I know."

"Ah, but you love me really, don't you?"

"If you say so." She tilted her head, smiling. "Good night Daemon – we should sleep, considering how little we'll probably get in Draega."

"I suppose so. Good night Surreal," he replied.

Surreal turned to head out the door, but paused. Turning back to him she crossed the space between them and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. She searched his eyes quickly, smiled, then hurried out.

Daemon was left staring after her, a small frown creasing his forehead. "Sometimes, Surreal, you are the most exasperating woman I know." Grinning to himself,f he Black-locked the door and climbed into bed. Blowing out the candles with a flash of Craft, his last thought before succumbing to sleep was, _'I wish I understand females.'_

Then he sank into a deep, untroubled sleep.

**A/N: You know what to do...**


	9. Chapter 9: Dorothea

**Sapphire,** _by lyradaemon _

**Chapter 9: Dorothea **

**A/N: You've got Paksennarion to thank for this chapter – great idea! This is for you. **

**_Hayll: Draega _**

Dorothea paced the length of her room, scarlet skirts swishing in her ferocity, hands clenched behind her back. One word circled relentlessly through her mind: _Sadi…_

Ever since that _bastard_ had run off, she had had to watch her back from all sides. Queens had sent her letters, claiming to be 'terrified' at the possibility that Daemon would be after them; daring to _blame_ her, the High Priestess no less, for letting him get away; suggesting, always discreetly, that perhaps if she was not fit for her position, would it be best if she stepped down graciously?

All of this because of that damnable man.

It made her seethe.

One night he had been there: in fact, she was the last one to see him after she had sent him away following a night of 'pleasure' on her behalf. And the next morning, he was gone. There had been no trace of him, no letter (he wasn't _that_ stupid), no hint as to where he might be. She trawled through her mind for any recollection of a careless word, a thoughtless conversation where he could have left a clue for her. But there were none. Daemon was well and truly gone.

Now it was up to her as the most powerful person in all of Terreille to see that her fiery Warlord Prince returned. No, she told herself, not _hers_; not hers at all – that, Daemon made _quite_ clear. We belonged to no one. And he had taunted her with it ever since he realized just how powerful he was, how much strength he could shape for his own purposes. The urge to have him killed had been almost overwhelming on occasion, but one sentence, uttered in the deep voice, had been the only thing that stayed her hand:

_The day either of my sons walks among the dead, is the day you wish you'd never been born._

No one took the High Lord's threats idly; not even she was foolish enough to. No, she had to keep Daemon alive, against her will. And the very fact that he was even now hiding who knows where was a grave danger. If some stupid little province-Queen found him and decided to 'do her a favour' by killing him, she would find the High Lord on her doorstep before she could blink.

She _had_ to find him. She had to.

But she didn't know where. Or how.

A knock at the door roused her from her thoughts. "Yes?" She called irritably, hoping that it wasn't a message saying Daemon had been found dead. She shuddered at the thought.

"Priestess?" A quivering voice said through the gap in the door.

"Come _in_, man!" She snapped.

A subservient wretch of a Warlord scuttled into view. Dorothea rolled her eyes. "Yes?" She asked through gritted teeth. She was definitely not in the mood to deal with idiots.

"Priestess…there is, umm, word, from…from, uh Dena N-Nehele that…" he trailed of, licking dry lips.

Dorothea prowled over and grabbed his shirt. "_Yes?_"

His muddy yellow eyes bulged but he cleared his throat. "Priestess, forgive me," he began, sweating. "They say that the assassin, Surreal, has been seen."

"Surreal?" Dorothea frowned, letting him go roughly. Surreal…she had heard that name before. Through various connections Dorothea had managed to learn the names of just about every assassin in Terreille. Some were more well-known than others, but she recognized most on hearing them. But Surreal…

"Who is she?" She demanded abruptly.

"Oh, umm, Priestess, she is…ah, well _was_ an accomplice of Sadi's…of sorts. I believe, well, I'm not sure, but I _think _they know each other."

Dorothea whirled around, eyes flashing dangerously. "And was anyone else seen in the company of this woman?" She asked. She already knew the answer.

"No, Priestess, no one was seen…not Sadi, or anyone else. I'm sorry, Priestess."

"Hmm," was all she said, pacing the room, tapping a long nail against her lips. If this Surreal was about, the chances that Daemon was nearby could be quite high. He was notoriously hard to find, but Dorothea knew that sometimes he made mistakes. Not often, to be sure, but it wasn't unheard of. He didn't have many contacts, of that Dorothea was sure: serving for centuries in Courts saw to that. But if Surreal was one…Dorothea smiled.

"And this woman is a known assassin?" She asked.

"Ah, well no, Priestess, not really. She is a, uh, _whore_ by profession, but it is rumoured that she can, um, you know…kill."

"Huh. A whore who can kill…the semblances are striking, are they not?" She directed this last to the hapless Warlord who looked utterly confused.

"Priestess?"

"Oh get out of my sight you wretched man!" She snapped, waving him away. "You're whimpering is giving me a headache." She turned to stare out the window, grateful to hear the door close.

So…what was Sadi playing at? His little friend Surreal was in Dena Nehele. _He_, on the other hand, was no where to be found. The name Dena Nehele tugged at her memory, but she couldn't place it. No matter: she would work it out sooner or later. At the moment, her wayward Warlord Prince was of more concern.

There was only one thing to be done.

She snapped her fingers and within moments a door on the other side of the room opened and a figure slipped in. "You called Priestess?"

"Yes…tell me, do we have anyone in or around Dena Nehele?" She asked lightly.

A pause. "Several."

"I want them all searching for the _lady_ Surreal within three hours."

"Ah," another pause. "And she is there?"

"No, she's in Dhemlan. Of course she's there you fool! And I don't want her to be _there_, I want her to be _here,_ because then that damned Sadi will come looking for her! _Then,_" she said slowly and precisely, "then, my dear, we will find him. And when I do…" she smiled, a cold, heartless smile, "he will wish _he'd_ never been born."

"As you wish, Priestess. Is there anything else I can do?"

Dorothea thought for a moment. "Yes, I believe there is. Send for that worthless wretch who brought me the message. He annoys me. Have him shaved."

"Priestess." The door closed.

Dorothea gazed out at the darkening sky. Suddenly Daemon was in her grasp. Everything seemed so much _better_.

_You can't hide from me, Sadi_, she thought. _No one can_.

**A/N: Right, another one up. All comments appreciated as always. Lyradaemon x **


	10. Chapter 10: Draega

**Sapphire, **_by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 10: Draega**

**A/N: I would apologise, but I don't think any of you would really believe me somehow… Thanks to **_dancingwithinbrokendreams_ **for reminding me that I had a story to write!**

Surreal woke to find sunlight lancing across her pillow. Opening her eyes groggily she stretched then hauled herself out of the warm comfort of her bed. Stumbling to the bathroom she turned on the shower, all the while rubbing her eyes, desperately trying to wake herself up. She hadn't had a proper nights sleep in days. Grumbling about the lack of hot water she quickly scrubbed herself clean, rinsing her hair of the grime it had accumulated the previous day. Having decided that a lukewarm shower was just _too_ much this early she clambered out and wrapped herself in one of the thick fluffy white towels.

After towelling herself dry she called in some miscellaneous clothes; sneaking through Draega would require anonymity. That meant that her usually beautifully tailored clothes would have to be exchanged for something more drab. Although, she thought wryly, she was never going to _not _stand out, what with her distinctive features and delicately pointed ears. Satisfied as she could be with her reflection, Surreal made her way downstairs, hoping to find something for breakfast.

In the common room she found Daemon clutching a mug of coffee as if it was the last one on earth and casting aggrieved glances at the sunlight filtering in through the open windows. Amaya and Noelle were talking animatedly with Stephan and Orianne in between bites of omelette. Surreal plunked herself down in an empty chair, lazily calling over a rack of toast and a pot of jam, as well as a much needed jug of hot coffee.

She was so engrossed in her breakfast she didn't notice Daemon slide into the chair next to her.

"So," he said conversationally.

Surreal almost dropped the jam in her surprise. "Mother Night Daemon, don't do that!"

"Terribly sorry."

She glared at him. "What do you want?" She snapped irritably.

"Nothing. I was bored."

"Whatever Daemon," she sighed, tucking back into her toast. "Say something meaningful or leave me alone. I'm hungry."

"When are we going?"

"Whenever we're all ready. Sooner rather than later though."

"And what are we going to do when we get there? Wander the streets? Find people to talk to?" His tone was slightly sharp.

Surreal shook her head, swallowing. "No. We go to your place – that's the safest thing. From there? I have no idea."

Daemon's gaze turned icy. "You have _no idea?_ Surreal, I am _not_ going all the way to Draega without an _idea_. If we don't know what we're doing, we'll end up either dead or with Dorothea. And," he added, eyes glinting dangerously, "I don't want _either_ of them to happen."

"Daemon, I am _not _taking responsibility-" she began hotly, all thoughts of breakfast forgotten.

"Nor am I! It's bad enough you persuaded me to come along too-"

"I did not _persuade_ you!"

"No, you didn't," he conceded ungraciously, "but this was all your idea in the first place. So either think of something, Surreal, or just forget this whole thing. I'm not taking any risks – no matter who they're for." And with that he stalked away.

Surreal sat there fuming. _Why was he always so snippy about everything? And why was it up to her to come up with something? This wasn't her problem; she shouldn't be responsible for anything. This was Noelle's problem; Noelle's and Amaya's. Let them come up with some brilliant idea. She wasn't going to have anything to do with it._

With that thought lodged firmly in her head, she sipped the rest of her now warm coffee.

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An hour later found the four of them at the Landing Web. Daemon had used Craft to change all their appearances; Surreal had her brown curls again, while Daemon wore his blonde hair and glared at the three women from his velvety brown eyes. Noelle had flaming waves while Amaya stuck to flowing blonde locks and fierce green eyes. All in all they looked a very odd bunch.

"Are we going then?" Surreal demanded impatiently.

"I suppose so," Daemon replied absently, eyes searching the street. Suddenly he drew in a sharp breath and nodded down the road. "Look."

Surreal turned, immediately noticing a figure in a dark hooded cloak heading up the street towards them. Quickly she looked to Daemon, sensing fear in his dark eyes. "What do we do?"

"Go."

With that, he grabbed Noelle's arm – who was closest – and dragged her to the Landing. Surreal in turn took Amaya and together they launched themselves into the Winds, followed closely by Daemon and Noelle.

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Some time later they arrived in Draega.

Their disguises had held, but even so Daemon gave the area a cursory check. Nodding brusquely, he indicated the narrow road on their right. "That way."

He stalked off, leaving the others running to catch up to him. "Where are we going?" Amaya demanded.

"My place."

They didn't talk again until Daemon stopped outside a rundown shack of a house in one of the poorer parts of the city: although, as Surreal noted, _everywhere_ looked poor and rundown.

Noelle eyed it doubtfully. "Here? _This_ is 'your place'?"

Daemon raised an amused eyebrow at her. "Don't judge it too quickly." He climbed the few steps to the door. "Come on; we need to get inside before someone notices."

The other three followed him, Noelle and Amaya with a look of apprehension on their faces, Surreal with a knowing smile.

Once inside, they gasped.

A vast hall, with oak flooring and a grand staircase and numerous rooms branching off. A beautiful crystal chandelier hung majestically from the ceiling, which was decorated richly.

"What?" Amaya said faintly, eyes widening at the sight.

Daemon chuckled softly. "I'll show you around."

They trailed after him, gazing in awe at room after room filled with expensive furniture and thick rugs; the kitchen was huge, granite countertops glistening under the light of numerous candles set in sconces. The dining and sitting rooms were awash with bright sunlight; upstairs, the bedrooms were well-equipped, each with a canopied bed and en-suite bathroom and balcony.

It was beautiful.

"I'm not going to ask," Noelle said, shaking her head balefully. "How you managed this…"

"Craft," Daemon said, shrugging his shoulders elegantly. "A grand exterior would attract people; a rundown one keeps them well away."

Amaya eyed it all appreciatively. "Well, you certainly don't lack for anything here Daemon."

He laughed at that. "Not really." He had reverted to his usual self; for once, his golden eyes held warmth and his body was relaxed. "Do you want something to drink?" Amaya and Noelle nodded. "Go down to the sitting room – I'll be there in a minute." Eyeing him speculatively, they went.

He turned to Surreal.

"Surreal…I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

Surreal almost choked. "What? The great Daemon Sadi, apologizing?" She reached out and felt his forehead. "Are you sure you're not ill?"

He caught her wrist, eyes serious. "No. I," he took a deep breath, "I should have been more…understanding."

"You should."

His tone sharpened. "This isn't easy Surreal."

"Nor is trying to take _full responsibility_ of this, this _mess_ we've managed to get ourselves into," she retorted.

"Are you trying to shift the blame onto me now?"

"I'm not _trying_ to do anything!" She shouted. "I don't want to be here any more than you do: but I agreed to help Noelle because that's _the right thing to do_." She paused, regarding him with a cruel smile. "But I suppose you wouldn't know about that, would you Daemon?"

Daemon flinched. For a long moment he just stared at her. When he finally spoke, ice dripped from his voice and his yellow eyes were devoid of any warmth; Surreal shivered. "Perhaps you should leave, Lady," he suggested calmly; too calmly. "You and your _friends_. Find someone who actually gives a damn about you. Tomorrow," he purred, sauntering past her to the door. She didn't turn around. "Tomorrow, _Lady_, you're on your own."

The door closed with a resounding _thud_ and the chill in the air dissipated.

But the cold which gripped Surreal's heart did not.

_Mother Night, what have I done?_

**A/N: Ooh, Surreal, what have you done? You'll have to wait to find out I'm afraid: although I think _Erkith_ might have worked it out…! Lyradaemon x**


	11. Chapter 11: Missing

**Sapphire, **_by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 11: Missing**

The door closed silently.

Standing in the shadow of the doorway, Surreal quickly surveyed her surroundings. The street was empty; obviously no-one wanted to be around here at this time. She didn't blame them.

Calling in her stiletto and wrapping it in a sight shield, Surreal carefully made her way down the street. She knew Draega reasonably well; including all the various back alleys and shortcuts through the seedier parts of the city. Slipping down a side alley – which, incidentally, appeared to be a dumping ground for empty bottles – she headed into the heart of Draega.

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After Daemon's curt dismissal, Surreal had crept to her room, creating a plan. She had spoken to Noelle and Amaya, trying to find out the best way of getting the information they needed. It had been obvious that Dorothea – in some shape or form – had been behind the attacks resulting in the deaths of the cousins' families. The only question was who had actually carried them out – and who had been the informer.

That was the part Noelle and Amaya agreed upon. Someone – someone they all _knew_ – had been in league with Dorothea and had given her men the information which had led those men to Dena Nehele.

However neither of them had been able to come up with a single name. Surreal had questioned them relentlessly about it, but had ended up none the wiser. It was a blind lead and they all knew it.

Still, Surreal had some hope that she could find someone who _would_ know; men would quite happily spill their secrets in careless pillow talk.

Finding the _right_ man was the difficulty.

But she did have one card up her sleeve: a name. After that night when she and Noelle had gone to the theatre and had been threatened, she had heard the parting words of one of the men. He had obviously thought she was out of ear-shot; but it wasn't his words that had remained with her. It was the name.

_Greer._

So Surreal had waited patiently until dusk before slipping out the house. She hadn't told Noelle and Amaya where she was going; and she sure as hell hadn't told Daemon either. _I don't need his help_.

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Surreal paused outside a rather seedy looking tavern. A rusty old sign swung outside it, creaking on un-oiled hinges. The rather overpowering odour of stale beer and sweat wafted outside. Taking a deep breath and _trying_ to wipe the disgusted look off her face, she went in.

Inside it was dark, smelly and hot. The cloying air was close and, as far as she could tell, the place was packed with men looking for a way to escape their wretched lives. Winding her way between tables – and taking care to miss the outstretched hands – she found an empty table and seated herself carefully, making sure she could see the whole room. Ignoring the leering stares directed her way, she called over to the bar for a glass of brandy, then settled down to watch.

She knew what she was looking for; she'd done this enough times. Most of the men were poorly dressed, their clothes not a lot better than rags. But a handful were obviously better off, flaunting their fancy clothes or wearing an expensive cloak to hide their attire. Those were the men to watch. They were the ones with 'friends in high places', the ones who knew people everywhere, who could find out any bit of information you wanted within a day. The ones who, without a doubt, were Dorothea's men.

Eventually one of them got up and made their way over to her. He had been watching her for some time; quick glances when he thought she wasn't looking. He obviously hadn't been able to resist a companion-less female with exotic looks. Surreal chuckled.

"Is this seat taken?" He asked; _what do you think?_ Surreal thought, but instead replied nonchalantly.

"No that I know of."

He gave her a sharp look and sat down anyway. "So," he said slowly, looking at her. "You don't seem the sort of woman to come here too often."

"Nor do you."

He seemed slightly taken aback by that, "I didn't mean offence, lady-"

"I know you didn't. Tell me," Surreal murmured, leaning forward. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. "I'm looking for a man named Greer. Do you know him?"

The man blanched visibly. "Maybe. Why?"

"Because we have a, ah _delicate_ matter to settle between us. He…well, lets just say he _owes_ me." Surreal studied his reaction. His expression hovered between fear and hesitancy.

"Why should I care about what you want with some man? It's got nothing to do with me."

"Ah, but you know where he is."

His eyelids flickered. "I never said that-"

"Look, sugar," Surreal hissed, the stiletto pressing his groin beneath the table. "You _do_ know who is and, what's more, you _can_ tell me _where_ he is. Because if you don't," her lips curved in a feral smile, "I will have to be careless with this," at that she pressed the stiletto just a _bit_ further into him. He gulped audibly. "Now, are you going to cooperate or not?"

"I don't know where he is. But," he said sharply as the point of Surreal's weapon pricked his flesh, "I know who does."

Surreal smiled. "There's a good boy. Tell me."

"The tavern in Wharf Street. A man called Halon. That's all I know."

Surreal sighed inwardly. _Great_. Glancing over towards the door she gasped.

The man in the black robe.

It was the same one; exactly the same. The one from Dena Nehele. _He followed me?_ She thought, desperately wracking her brains to think of something. _Mother Night, how do I get out of this one?_

She gave the man opposite her a feral smile, jabbing the stiletto one last time then, checking to make sure the black-robed man was facing the other way, she slid out of her seat and made her way towards the door.

But he saw.

Making her way past rowdy men and groping hands she pushed open the door with a violent shove; only to be grasped around the middle, one hand over her mouth.

_Oh shit_.

"So, I found you at last," a warm voice murmured in her ear. "You've been playing hard to get, little whore."

Surreal struggled, desperately trying to free her arms but she was locked in an iron grip. She was about to gather her Grey strength to attack the man, but thought better of it. She had no idea how much he knew about her, but she didn't want to give away her only advantage right away. With any luck, he'd have a lighter Jewel than hers; if that was the case, he wouldn't be able to detect which Jewel she wore.

Sensing her still, the man took his hand from her mouth before pressing a dagger to her throat. "One sound and you're dead," he muttered. The arm around her waist disappeared, but her hands had been tied with phantom ropes. She was well and truly trapped.

The man, gripping her so hard it bruised, dragged her into a waiting carriage and thrust her violently in. Surreal banged her head sharply on the side of the door and felt a sticky wetness trickle down her cheek. Once inside, a phantom hand clapped itself over her mouth and the man sat down opposite her. She shook her head, trying in vain to dislodge whatever was holding her but it was no use.

"You're not escaping, whore," the man chuckled cruelly. "You're Dorothea's now."

Suddenly Surreal felt a weariness creep over her. As the rising tide of panic threatened to overwhelm her, she slumped forward, unconscious.

He last thought was _"Daemon…"_


End file.
